


Trophy Husband

by Wugbug



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Because he would definitely be assumed to be her trophy husband, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 16:21:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19023547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wugbug/pseuds/Wugbug
Summary: At a party honoring Bulma's scientific achievements, Vegeta overhears some humans making assumptions about him.





	Trophy Husband

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not super happy with this one, but I wanted to get it out. Because he is 100% a trophy husband.

He really didn't want to be here. 

The lavishly dressed humans chattered as they drank their wine and ate their pitifully small portions of food. He was glad that Bulma had suggested he eat before the party, because he could never be filled up on cheese and mini pastries. 

He shifted uncomfortably in his suit. It was perfectly tailored to fit, but it still made him feel uncomfortable. And he hated feeling like people were watching him. 

But the party was important to Bulma, so here he was. 

He was there to support her as she was honored for this stupid award. But that did not mean he was going to enjoy himself. 

This was not the first party he had been forced to attend with his wife but they never got easier. He claimed he hated the because of all the stupid humans, but that was only half the reason. 

The main reason was the vague memories they conjured up. 

He didn't have many clear memories from his early childhood, but he did have fuzzy memories of being present at court parties. Those affairs were vastly different from this party full of weak earthlings. People wore ceremonial armor rather than suits and cocktail dresses and there was a lot more food, for starters. But there was a similar sense of decadence that he hadn't really experienced anywhere else. 

And  _ his _ role was basically the same in both scenario. 

He was forced into uncomfortable clothes and told to stand still and be quiet as he listened to people talk about things he had no context for. 

He closed his eyes, remembering those distant childhood memories. The sense memories were the strongest. The strong smelling oils the attendants had put in his hair, the taste of the food, the sting of a slap from his nanny scolding him for squirming too much, and the stern but soft smile of his mother looking down at him. 

“Vegeta, are you falling asleep?” A voice brought him back to the present. 

Bulma stood in front of him, hand on her hip and an amused smile on her lips. She looked stunning in her maroon cocktail dress, her shoulders bare and the slit up the side showing a generous amount of leg. Her heels made her significantly taller than him and he would never admit how into that he was. He had seen her earlier of course but she could take his breath away no matter how many times he saw her. No one could claim he was not attracted to his wife. 

“I'm awake. Just bored.” was all he said. He would never giver her the satisfaction of letting her know she had an effect over him in public. That would have to wait for after the party. 

She patted his cheek in mock sympathy. “Oh, poor baby. He's bored.” 

Vegeta snarled and pushed her hand away, but he took the glass. “Shouldn't you get ready for your speech?” 

She grinned. “What do you think I'm doing? Need to get a ‘good luck’ from my beloved husband.” 

“You should probably go find him then.” He answered with sass but he couldn’t help but smile. 

“You jerk.” She stuck her tongue out before looking around and sighing. “I really should be getting ready.” 

She started to turn away. 

“Good luck.” he said softly. 

She turned back and her smile was so bright it made his heart jump. She blew a kiss and turned to hurry away. 

He watched her leave and he knew she didn’t need any luck. She could crush any of these humans without even trying. Intellectually, of course. He would do any literal crushing for her. 

He sat there, swirling the champagne in his glass, watching the bubbles. 

“. . . Bulma Briefs. . .” 

He turned his head towards the sound of his wife’s name. A group of humans stood near the table of hor d'oeuvres, talking animatedly. He turned away from them so they couldn’t tell he was eavesdropping. He normally wouldn’t be interested in what some humans had to say, but if they were talking about his wife, it was his duty to make sure they weren’t a threat. 

“She was just here!” One woman exclaimed. “She was talking to that guy over there?” 

“Oh man, that's her husband!” a man shushed her and Vegeta pretended to be extremely interested in his glass of champagne, but he straightened his back. They were talking about him? He didn’t care, of course. Except he did. 

“Him?  _ That’s  _ her husband?” The woman sounded incredulous and he frowned. What was wrong with him?

“That's definitely him." The man said. 

"He's. . . Certainly muscular." 

"I know, right? Total trophy husband.” Another woman laughed. “I heard he just works out, like, all day.”

Trophy husband? What did that even mean? And how did that relate to his training regimine? 

“I mean, if anyone deserves a trophy husband, it’s Bulma freakin’ Briefs.” 

“You’d think she’d’ve choosen someone taller.” The first woman said. 

“Some people are just into muscles. It’s not for me, but I respect it.” The other woman said with a laugh. 

Vegeta shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t usually worried about his attractiveness but hearing people judge like that was making him annoyed. His muscles were not for something as petty as attractiveness. The were functional and contained power these humans could never even dream of. Besides Bulma seemed to like them, so screw these stupid humans. 

“What was his name again? Veg - something?” The first woman asked.

“Vegeta. Briefs. He took her name apparently.” The man whispered, as if this was some sort of embarrassing secret. He only officially had her last name because he didn’t have one and she said he needed one. It wasn’t like he used it or anything. It was just practical. 

Who even was this man? He did not know this man. How did he know anything about him? When Vegeta found out what Capsule Corp employee had been gossiping, they will feel his wrath. Or maybe this guy was an employee? Vegeta never bothered to pay them much attention.

“Oh damn. Good for her.” 

"How do you think they met? I bet he was, like, her fitness instructive or something cliche like that."

Vegeta almost laughed at that. If these humans learned anything about how they met or who he actually was their heads would explode.  

Besides, the idea of Bulma doing any fitness was laughable. All she did was ride a stupid little stationary bike for a half hour every morning -- and she skipped around half the time.

The humans moved on to discuss some celebrity who had a messy divorice recently after having an affair with a fitness instructor. He determined they weren't saying anything interesting and they definitely weren't a threat, so he closed his eyes and focused on planning out his next fight with Kakarot. 

"Thank you so much to everyone for coming tonight!" A amplified voice brought his attention back to the present. He opened his eyes and turned toward the stage. 

A sharply dressed man smiled behind a microphone, expressing formalities and other such nonsense. Vegeta didn't care about that, but this man's presence meant Bulma would be speaking soon. 

“And so, I’m proud to introduce our honored guest, the winner of this year’s Nibble Prize in Physics, Dr. Bulma Briefs!” The crowd cheered and Vegeta smiled. This was the reception she deserved. 

Bulma stepped onto stage, smiling widely. The man handed her the small statue he had been holding and she clutched it tightly. 

“Thank you so much Mr. Chairman.” She addressed the man as he left the stage before turning to the gathered people. Conversation had entirely ceased as everyone gave her their undivided attention. 

“Thank you so much everyone for being here tonight. It really means so much to me. Before I get into my talk, I just want to thank a few people. First, my father.” The elder Dr. Briefs and his wife waved from his table near the front. “He supported and cultivated my interest in science and engineering from a young age and I wouldn’t be the woman I am today without him. He was my mentor and is still my favorite research partner. And also, my mother, whose boundless optimism and kindness helped me learn the emotional skills I needed to get this far. I want to thank Jean Pepplum, my head lab manager, whose organizational skills have kept me from going crazy more times than I can count and who probably knows my coffee order better than her own name, as well as all of my research assistants. I swear I know all of your names.” There were scattered laughs around the room. 

Bulma grinned and paused, her eyes searched the crowd and finding Vegeta’s. Her eyes were soft and her smile became lighter. His heart ached at how beautiful she looked. “I’d also like to thank my husband, Vegeta, for always believing I could be doing more. He pushes me to be my best, always. His determination inspires me to strive to be better and never give up. Despite all logic.” There were laughs at this and Vegeta’s mouth quirked up in a smile. “He is a big idiot but I love him.” Despite the room full of people watching her, her small smile was just for him. 

After barely more than a second, she broke eye contact and continued on with her acceptance speech. But he wasn’t paying attention. 

He couldn’t believe that  _ this  _ was his life now. Sipping champagne while his incredible, beautiful, brilliant, witty,  _ fearless  _ wife got up on stage and casually told hundreds of people that she loved him. And that she saw him as a positive force in her life. It just didn’t make any sense. 

But nothing in his life had made any sense for a long time. Not since he came to this godforsaken planet. Probably not since he had been sent away from his home planet.

And especially not since he met her. 

He thought back to what the gossiping humans had been saying.  _ Trophy husband. _ He could tell it was meant to be insulting. He thought of what it implied, that he was on display, a prize. He didn’t like the idea, it reminded him too much of how Freiza saw him, a symbol of how he subjugated the Saiyans. 

He might be a prince but he was no symbol. He was not a prize or a  _ trophy _ . He was a fighter. A killer. Always active, never passive. 

Even aside from that, the idea that someone could see him as something to be desired was still baffling to him. He had blood on his hands and his mind that could never be content. He was a mess and he knew it. He was no prize. 

But looking at Bulma up there, he didn’t mind the idea of being her trophy. 


End file.
